


no sound but the wind

by scifis



Series: the end of all things (a whisper) [2]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Juyeon-centric, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Polyamory, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifis/pseuds/scifis
Summary: Somewhere near them, he hears Changmin’s laugh again. Juyeon is almost happy, then, his heart beating almost too fast and hands holding the soaked hoodie of one of the boys he owes his life to. He wonders if Changmin is kissing Chanhee when his brain registers that the laughter has stopped.
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Ji Changmin | Q/Lee Juyeon/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin
Series: the end of all things (a whisper) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735195
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	no sound but the wind

**Author's Note:**

> hi, im back sooner than i thought i would be :D thank you soooo much for all the kind comments on part one!!! they meant the world to me and made me smile so much ): im really, really thankful. a few things before we start:
> 
> 1\. you don’t necessarily need to read “wasteland, baby” for this to make sense because it’s not really supposed to, but i’d recommend it!
> 
> 2\. juyeon-centric because i love him. i hope i did him justice with this. forever my boy
> 
> 3\. title from “no sound but the wind” by the editors! im sorry if theres any mistakes! hope you enjoy <3

The apocalypse teaches Juyeon about the little things. He’s learned about loving sunrises instead of sunsets, loving plain crackers and canned food because those mean living another day. Has learned about looking forward to quiet mornings and even quieter nights, reserved for holding bodies close to his, sharing warmth and secrets and feelings he didn’t know existed in him. 

It’s weird, he thinks, to lose everything he once knew. It’s weird not having classes to attend, parties to go to, friends to visit, parents to avoid meeting at all costs because they’ve stopped seeing him as their son after a confession he once wished he hadn’t made. It’s weird not having to care about any of that anymore, he muses, washing his face with rainwater they’ve managed to collect in the past day. 

Changmin takes long steps to sit beside him in the sidewalk, hands quickly finding the plastic basin and dropping water to his lips—they’re so chapped. Juyeon doesn’t keep his eyes on them for more time than he considers appropriate. “We should look for them, probably.” He says, “It’s about to get dark.” Changmin hums, closes his eyes, answers _We should_ in a whisper. Juyeon almost finds it hard to remember a time before this and it’s bittersweet, how much he doesn’t really want to. 

He takes Changmin’s hand. They find Hyungseo and Chanhee two houses down the street, holding big colorful hoodies and cardboard games on their hands, their smiles way too big for their faces. There’s no dinner, but they make do with rounds after rounds of _Monopoly_.

(He knows he’s supposed to be up by now, can feel the sun touching the tips of his fingers and the boy next to him stirring in his sleep. Juyeon lets his eyes stay closed, lets the warmth embrace him because he needs it, needs the sound of someone else’s breathing in order to recharge and the small happiness of getting to listen to it so freely in order to get through the day. It’s cold when the other body moves, but he doesn’t miss it, not when Hyungseo wakes him up with a kiss—it’s short and unnecessary and Juyeon absolutely loves it. “Good morning to you, too” he croaks out.

Hyungseo smiles. He’s a bit mesmerizing in that light. He’s a bit mesmerizing all the time, if Juyeon thinks about it. 

“Did you sleep well?” it’s such a normal question. It’s such a worldly thing leaving the other boy’s lips that Juyeon lets himself imagine what it would be like to wake up next to Hyungseo back then, before everything. What it would be like to hear his voice every morning, how happy it would’ve made him.

The younger doesn’t wait for an answer. They get up, sit on the porch of the abandoned house they’re in, make friends with one or two birds singing nearby.)

For some reason, Juyeon is okay.

· 

It hasn’t stopped raining for days and it doesn’t really surprise all of them when they discover Changmin is one with it, the rain—he goes out one morning and sits on the concrete, smiling up at the sky, all oversized sweaters and boyish charms. Hyungseo’s eyes twinkle when he smiles at the sight, and Juyeon’s heart swells. He wishes cameras were still a thing. Chanhee runs out the door, drapes himself over the boy on the floor, hugs his body for minutes or hours or days and they have a conversation Juyeon isn’t close enough to hear.

Changmin’s laugh, though, is a whole other story. He hears Changmin’s laugh as if it was his own, as if he was the one to capture sunshine and turn it into a sound.

Hyungseo pushes him out of the porch. His— _new!_ , he frowns for a moment—clothes get drenched in so little time he’s scared he’ll get sick, but then a pair of lips find his own and Juyeon simply kisses back. It’s childish, a little too fast-paced for his liking—Hyungseo the one who’s never been too fond of thinking things through between them—and Juyeon wishes time would stop, wishes the sun would never leave the sky again, whishes the clouds would be filled with rain all the time.

Somewhere near them, he hears Changmin’s laugh again. Juyeon is almost happy, then, his heart beating almost too fast and hands holding the soaked hoodie of one of the boys he owes his life to. He wonders if Changmin is kissing Chanhee when his brain registers that the laughter has stopped.

(There are bad days and worse days. On the bad ones, he receives only a few calls from the numbers he doesn’t have the courage to block or delete, and they leave him no voicemails. He can get out of bed with only a large bit of struggle, put a smile on his face, pretend his phone doesn’t sit heavy on the back pocket of his oldest pair of jeans. 

The worse days bring non-stop calls he doesn’t have the heart to accept nor decline, bring the numbness of realization and a slap to the face that tells him how much of a disappointment he is — Juyeon fights really, really hard to remind himself that since he got kicked out, he’s the one who pays his own bills, he’s the one who makes his own food and he’s the one majoring in Education, trying to be better than what his parents repeatedly told him he was. 

He doesn’t listen to his dad’s drunken voicemails after laying down like he used to, doesn’t cry that often anymore. The old scar on his ribs burns against his shirt, and Juyeon wishes all the buzz could be replaced with comforting noise instead.)

· 

(He’s got a boy in his arms, the only boy tonight, and the beer in his hands is lukewarm. They’re not dancing more than they’re talking to each other over the loud music, and Juyeon has no idea which friend of his lives in this frat, not when the boy, chestnut hair and all, asks if he wants to go outside for a moment.

The music gets quieter and now the boy has a prettier face, a prettier smile, looks a little less drunk than he did inside. There’s people on the front yard where they are, but Juyeon is almost completely sure he can taste the boy’s smile when they kiss so he doesn’t care. It tastes like happiness and vodka, a few other things maybe, probably, and he wonders if chestnut hair can taste his smile, as well. Wonders what his own smile tastes like.)

Changmin feels and is small under him, letting himself be hugged, completely engulfed by the older. Juyeon wishes he could do more than be there, but he can’t, so he sends Chanhee and Hyungseo to look for whatever they can find nearby and pulls Changmin’s body closer to his. Forces a melody out of his own lips, a broken tune he doesn’t remember hearing anywhere, uses the pads of his fingers to remind Changmin that he is real. 

After more time than time itself, Changmin starts to grow again, starts to search for his gaze like he did back then, that night, eyes dripping something similar to happiness and life, only this time his hair is black. “Do you think you can kiss me even after I tell you I forgot to brush my teeth this morning?”

There’s no smile this time, but, like all other times, the boy tastes like happiness and life and a few other things, maybe, probably, his teeth always ready to bite at Juyeon’s bottom lip and his tongue always ready to lick the pain away.

Changmin feels like falling in love, just like Chanhee feels like being in love and Hyungseo feels like love itself. Juyeon, while being kissed gently, roughly, both — like somehow Changmin thinks his kisses are oxygen and he’s scared he’ll run out of it way too soon — finds out those three things are the same and he is what he is because they have shaped him into his being.

The boys have kissed each other enough times to know just _how_ to kiss each other, and then there is no apocalypse commanding them to be stronger than they are or thoughts about how many people the single bed can hold at once—everything is happiness and life and Changmin _and_ —

· 

His mind brings him thoughts about the evil outside as he tries to protect the others at night, because of course it does, nothing but the buzz only he is able to hear fighting with the fear of losing those he owes his life to. The buzz loses on most times and the raven-haired doesn’t know if that is really a good thing.

Juyeon, truthfully, feels like being scared brings him too many memories he doesn’t want to have to remember. He tries his best not to imagine creatures he’s never seen who lurk behind the fog, the darkness, during the hours while the moon supposedly watches over them high up in the sky—it’s been, _what?_ , months since the last time he’s seen it? He knows they’re real, the creatures, because the TV said so, because the radio said so, because Jacob’s and so many other people’s dead bodies said so, not a single visible injury on their skin and no one to tell the story of their final breaths to the world. Knows they are real and can kill, has recognized one or two faces on the street while covering the eyes of the boys next to him so they didn’t have to see it themselves. He feels old, timeless, feels like he is everything and nothing at once.

Juyeon isn’t stupid, was forced to grow up by himself, knows how to recognize danger by far now. Knows that as soon as the sun dips below the horizon, if he doesn’t put a roof on top of their heads, the four of them will never wake up to see another day ever again. He wishes he could live in the fantasy the better part of his brain created: one where they’re alone and the world is theirs, where there’s no unknown because they’ve explored and mapped out every little thing in existence, where fancy picnics under the stars are possible and not a death sentence.

It’s really hard to admit he’s afraid.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Chanhee’s voice sounds like it’s found its place sitting below his ear, his arms feel like they’ve found theirs intertwining themselves with his middle, his body feels like it belongs against his back. “My turn, isn’t it, hotstuff?”

(“I’m Chanhee,” the boy’s skin glows beautifully under the sun, pale, and he is hesitant as he extends a hand for Hyungseo to shake. Juyeon watches the interaction from behind with doubt in his eyes and a knife in his hand, ready to threaten anyone in the world if they do so much as look at Hyungseo the wrong way. “We, uh, I mean—I’ve been kind of watching you two for the past day or so? Would you mind some company?”

It takes a week or more, he isn’t sure because time isn’t real, but two turn into three and now he’s got another man, boy — Chanhee, pink hair with visible roots and all, who has a pretty voice when he sings them lullabies at night — to care for. It’s still unclear for Juyeon whether he minds it or not.

They fall into place like that, as much as they can, and Chanhee starts using more words, starts making himself known, starts painting his own name a colorful rainbow in what was once Juyeon’s dichromatic world. Juyeon thinks he hasn’t seen a person as normal as him in the best part of two months—crazy old men in abandoned grocery stores aren’t exactly his definition of normalcy. 

They’re the same age, can get drunk if they find alcohol. Hyungseo trusts people so easily. Juyeon watches the first night, then the second one, as they tell each other stories about people and things and all the lives they have lived up until where they are then. Chanhee is pink where Hyungseo is red, and it shouldn’t be a match so well-made but it is, and for some reason Juyeon keeps watching, watching, watching.

He thinks he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t find them beautiful and, because they don’t have anything to lose, they decide to make something out of whatever they can collect from each other. A kaleidoscope.)

Chanhee kisses his shoulder, rests his forehead against it, asks “You’re going to cover for me or move away from the window, handsome?”

Juyeon smiles. He’s absolutely terrified of losing what the end of the world brought him.

· 

Not much has been taken from him, he thinks, looking at himself in the mirror. He’s lost things that mattered to most—money, a routine, people that share his blood. 

He’s lost waking up because of nightmares in the middle of the night and having no one to calm him down, lost living every single day on autopilot wishing everything would be over, lost the fear of mundane things like spiders and lizards.

(Juyeon doesn’t actually wake up one day after the world as he knew it ends and magically decide that if this is it then he accepts it, that even if he has nowhere to go he’ll keep walking anyways. What gets him is the beauty of being strong for someone when you can’t be strong for yourself, fighting for other people when you still don’t feel like you’re someone worth fighting for — Juyeon stops for a moment, hears a voice similar to Hyungseo’s inside his brain telling him he’s gonna need to get better at this one, shakes his head fondly. What gets him is waking up to people who accept him for who he is, encourage him to be himself, to be better, people whose smiles taste like happiness and life.

Juyeon asks himself if purpose means something.)

The house is quiet. There is no buzz. Three sets of laughter find their way to his ears. (It means Chanhee, Hyungseo and Changmin.)

**Author's Note:**

> the words for this one just kept coming out. i love juyeon. i hope at least some of this makes sense and if it doesnt im sorry. thank you so, so much for reading <3


End file.
